


Don't ask, just tell me

by maplewoodmoth



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward lesbians who hate the establishment but play with it in different ways, F/F, It's not what I expected to write but here it is?? Enjoy I guess, Trapped In A Closet, and kissing to pretend you meant to be there all along
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:08:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23084497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maplewoodmoth/pseuds/maplewoodmoth
Summary: That moment when you get trapped in a closet stealing potion supplies with one of your house rivals? And then you kiss. Wait what?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 12
Kudos: 134





	Don't ask, just tell me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laslus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laslus/gifts).



> Here's to Laslus, who enabled me with this great pairing:
> 
> “Also!! Im always a slut for hermione/pansy or ginny/pansy so if you want to write it i would love it. Maybe study partners for hermione/pansy or ginny and pansy get in trouble at the same time and get together to hide their actions bc they are too cool for school.” - Laslus on AO3. 
> 
> This is neither but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Pansy and Hermione are both idiot rulebreakers who run by their own methods and I took that general topic and ran with it.

It’s not that Hermione means to resort to rule breaking for this specific potion, but well. Research isn’t going to do itself and Dumbledore’s Army needs any and all resources it can get. 

Furthermore, while the room of requirement can conjure ingredients necessary for potions, there’s a limit. 

“There’s always a limit,” Hermione huffs under her breath, “it’s magic. Of course there’s always a limit. We can fly on brooms, and transfigure rats into teacups, but ask something fresh to be summoned to a third location and suddenly it has no idea how to function. Of course there’s also the limit that magic cannot create something from nothing, NO. We can’t have that, it would be too much.” Hermione is really on a roll here, despite the empty hallways and the borrowing of Harry’s invisibility cloak, she’s still sure to keep her voice low and her complaints muffled with a cursory silencing charm. 

Of course, breaking into the greenhouses and Snape’s potion storage has become something of a hobby at this point, so Hermione knows the route to and from both locations like the back of her hand. Rule breaking for a purpose isn’t rule breaking if the person you’re stealing from deserves it. 

Anyway, she’s rummaging through the cupboards, whistling under her breath, carefully sorting through the ingredients to make sure she grabs only what’s necessary when a voice behind her interrupts her quiet jamming out to the tune of “tubthumping” . 

“Granger,” the voice says, “not so much of a goodie two shoes now when the light doesn’t hit you.” And Hermione whirls around. While she’d been certain that she heard no footsteps and her perimeter charms were solid, it’s also possible that she was too into her music and dismissed the warning chime as something irrelevant. Either way, Hermione’s now stuck in Snape’s potion storage with Pansy Parkinson of all people. 

“I”, Hermione stutters out smoothly, “am doing Snape a favor. He hardly ever bothers to throw out the old ingredients anyway.”  
“Probably because he knows that people like us are going to be rummaging through his stock at some point.” Pansy says blithely, dropping her empty bag next to Hermione and rolling up her sleeves to get to work. 

Hermione wrinkles her nose up at Pansy’s seemingly careless actions, “Why aren’t you wearing gloves, you heathen, you know he doesn’t organize his stores nearly well enough for you to be confident that you won’t be poisoned by accident. Also, fingerprints.”

“What are those?” Pansy asks, and Hermione almost face-palms until she remembers that she’s talking to a wizard and also a person who believes in the five-second rule. 

Hermione hadn’t meant to start a thieving comraderie with Pansy of all people, but when the other failed to snitch her out, and she failed to do the same, it just seemed better that they mind their own business and just. Keep doing what they were doing while ignoring the other. 

And then when the bitter silences turned into something like sarcastic comments and then something like stilted conversation, Hermione just. Accepted it. Which was hard, but not unimaginable. Mostly it’s because snitching on one means snitching on themselves. And anyway, Pansy did admit, quietly one day, that Snape really didn’t care that much about the back stores, as long as they didn’t touch the too dangerous things, as he’d unintentionally given the Slytherins base permission to pillage from his class stores, as long as they were smart enough not to get caught. If he doesn’t realise that there’s a Gryffindor among his own students ALSO stealing from his stores, then who’s going to enlighten him? Certainly not the students he gave ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ permission to. 

So Hermione and Pansy are potion supply buddies. It’s weird and Hermione can’t help but worry about it constantly in the back of her mind, but she’s smart about it and feels like she could handle anything that Pansy can throw at her, so she’s probably doing better than Harry or Ron would at this point. 

They bicker and banter and mutter to themselves, and don’t share what they’re doing with the supplies stolen to the other (the unofficial consensus is that it’s for classes, and the real reason is not one they actually share with the other, but it probably has to do with their [open- Hermione] and [barely hidden- Pansy] distaste of Umbridge. 

This night is like any other, except when they’ve finished their pilfering and mean to move on, down the hallways of the dungeons, there’s a noise and Hermione’s perimeter alarm goes off a second time. 

Hermione barely has time to think before Pansy’s pulling her into a side supply closet, nearly hidden between a tapestry of a gnome hacking at the ankles of a troll, and a bust of a wizard with his eyes missing. It’s a tight fit, but they manage, and Hermione is intimately aware of the hand covering her mouth. Awkwardly, of course. As the mature witch she is, Hermione licks Pansy’s hand, and when it’s pulled back in disgust, asks, “So I understand why I’m hiding, but why are you hiding? If you got in trouble, you’d get right out, Umbridge loves you and your fawning act.”

“I am not hiding” Pansy sniffs, “I am taking precautionary measures. If it’s Filch, it doesn’t matter, because he hates everyone equally. No matter Umbridge’s preference and favoritism. So really, bugger off and get it through your thick head that I’m just protecting my best interests. If you get caught by him, you’d just snitch and that’s just useless for me.” 

Hermione wants to argue but Pansy’s hand is back to covering her mouth and they quiet their breathing as best they can. Unfortunately, it might not be enough, as the footsteps and muttering pause just outside their closet door. 

Hermione’s ready to give up the ghost and throw the invisibility cloak over the both of them when Pansy takes her suddenly sweaty palm off Hermione’s mouth, saying “shite Granger, just follow my lead” 

Hermione barely has time to stutter out “What do you--” without a chance to finish because Pansy is kissing her and oh. Oh fuck, Oh shit, oh damn, it’s lovely, it’s wonderful. This. Well this explains some things.

It also turns out to be unnecessary, as the footsteps soon move on past their door. But Hermione and Pansy don’t actually stop kissing for a while after that. When they do resurface, it’s with quiet gasps and nervous hands, and quick gasps of air. Then, only then do they spring as far apart from each other with mutters and words about checking to see if the coast is clear. 

“Maybe” Hermione blurts out, “I could show you the proper preparation methods for mugwort and whatever it is you’re working on. Don’t want it to blow up in your face after all,” she sniffs. “Someone better keep an eye on your troublemaking methods.”

“Oh Granger”, Pansy says, “you have no idea. I could do way better than the likes of you, but I’d be foolish to turn down an offer such as that. See you at the same time next week.” She states, not asking, and saunters off, opening the closet door with quick and deft hands, not even checking to see if the coast is clear before she flusters away. 

Hermione touches her lips and grins behind her hand as she watches Pansy whisk herself away. 

Maybe; maybe.


End file.
